


how the world ends

by canniballistics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Skinny Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/pseuds/canniballistics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has ended, the air too poisonous to breathe, and humanity has shifted to living underground. Still, with the right equipment and on a good day, it's possible to travel back up to the surface. It's on one of these days that Steve insists he and Bucky go, and in the end it's more than worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how the world ends

**Author's Note:**

> so this is an au i've been thinking on for probably close to six months, and a story i've been sitting on for nearly as long. i had a lot more planned, and then realized the story had gotten away from me, so in an attempt to rein it back in i cut a lot out. i'm still in love with the ideas i had before though, so i might put them in another story some other time. i'm quite fond of this universe, it'd be fun to explore it some more. but for now, please enjoy!
> 
> thanks to varooooom for the beta again!

The sky is an irradiated orange, and for the first time in weeks, he feels good.

* * *

The last time the rain let up had been a little over two months ago, and if he lets himself think about it, they definitely didn't wait long enough this time to make sure it didn't start again. But Steve had been so sure about it, insisted that it was a good idea to get out while they could, and Bucky never was able to refuse him for long. So they'd gathered their things, what few belongings they had and made their way to one of the exit shafts to what was left of the world. And as soon as the door had opened, he knew that Steve had been right.

It's been long enough now that the two of them can barely remember what the world used to be like. They'd only been boys when life as they knew it collapsed, and in the ensuing commotion, they lost everyone else important to them. Steve's ma had been one of the last ones to get sick, and they lost track of Bucky's family in the move to the underground. Things ended up with just the two of them, two boys alone in a strange new world. But just like always, Bucky took care of Steve and Steve took care of him, and as the years passed and they grew up ( _survived_ ) together, it got harder and harder to imagine life without each other.

Now, more than ten years later, as he watches Steve adjust the mask over his nose and mouth and grab a handful of rocks, Bucky knows he wouldn't want a life like that.

He settles his own mask, makes sure his goggles are snug before checking on Steve's, much to the other's ire. It's second nature to mother him like this, and he grins at the little scowl Steve shoots him. It's true that there have been press releases and news from Stark R&D about the work being done to figure out what happened, to test the air and make sure it's safe again, but that's been the same story for years now, and still no real progress has been made. No one knows if the outside is safe or how to make it so if it isn't, and Bucky refuses to take any chances. So only once they're settled and properly protected does he let Steve pass to climb the ladder first, following after him and sealing the hatch behind them. They punch the buttons on their respirators to get them started, and as soon as the machines kick into gear, Bucky opens the door. The two start moving, quiet as they laugh and talk between themselves.

Getting to the surface is surprisingly easy. The tunnels they emerge from had been built in haste only a few years before everything ended, expanded and made safer only through the deaths of hundreds of workers over the years. The hatch to Six-Below ( as they've taken to calling this part of the "new world" ) sits in an enclosure roughly six feet tall and four feet wide, in what used to be a park. The original purpose for the hatches was to be able to test the air quality at regular intervals, but as more were built along the tunnel lines and closer to the Stark Research labs, the older ones like this were left unmanned. 

( Bucky remembers the building of this hatch's enclosure vividly. If the world had been normal, it should have taken two men a day, at most, to build; as it was, it took six men and two weeks to complete. He remembers because Steve had gotten sick during the process. Real sick, and when nothing Bucky did helped, he begged the nurse down the way to help. She told him it was rheumatic fever, that it wasn't too uncommon in boys around their ages, and gave them some of her aspirin rations to help. He got better soon after, and Bucky nearly cried with relief. They still bring the nurse, a pretty lady named Evelyn, spoils from their journeys to the surface even now. )

If getting to the surface is easy, it's navigating around it that makes for rougher going. His ma's garden had grown like crazy if she hadn't been there to keep it in check, back when they lived on the surface. Now, after so long without humanity, the echoes of it are evident, and on a much larger scale: plants burst through sidewalks and pavement, new trees sprouting wherever they can. The streets are starting to look more like a jungle than anything, and Bucky pauses to take a look around and marvel. There hadn't been any of the calamities promised by the big religions when the world ended: no volcanoes burning the earth, no huge fault lines devouring entire cities, no tidal waves to "cleanse the world", none of that Rapture junk to take people up to Heaven. Instead, it'd been a creeping, insidious thing. Folks just began getting sick one day; it'd started with coughing, but no one paid much mind to what they'd thought was just an increase in reports of colds. Not until they realized it was a worldwide epidemic, at least, and by then it was too late. 

He knew he'd never be able to get Steve's expression out of his mind, as he watched Mrs. Rogers taken away by hazmat suits. He'd never forget how she'd promised she'd be back soon, and his heart lurched every time he caught Steve scanning the crowds for her. Still does, even now.

The thought has him picking up his pace, torn between trying to watch Steve's back and stomping the ground into something easier for him to talk on, ready to reach out and grab him if he trips. Steve's never been the hardiest, despite Bucky's attempts at beefing him up over the years, and so whenever a sickness breaks out they're quick to evacuate the area. It's hardwired into him by now to keep track of him, and it's something he takes seriously. Steve's never been able to talk him out of it, and he never will; the little guy doesn't need protecting, but he does need help every now and then, and Bucky's determined to be there to provide it.

It's not easy to pick their way through overgrown trees and wild grass, and Bucky eyes the grass warily, looking for any rustling they didn't start, signs of snakes that might otherwise be invisible. There haven't been any reports of wildlife sightings for years, but that doesn't convince him that they're not there. 

When they finally make it out of the park, they're both silent as they look out over the remains of the world. Both remember it differently, but it's still jarring to see what's become of it. The biggest thing they can agree on is how eerie everything is. Buildings stand empty, still displaying the remnants of human life where their occupants literally dropped everything to escape into the underground shelters. Cars sit abandoned on the streets, some with the keys left in the ignition, others with their doors locked. It's rare now that any might still work, but after their first trip to the surface, they'd made a game of finding cars with working batteries. 

( Bucky remembers it like it was yesterday, how excited he'd been. He'd waited an extra year for Steve to come of age, too, so they could experience it together. How familiarly foreign everything had been, and how they nearly peed themselves when Steve bumped into a car whose battery still worked, that still had its alarm on. He'd made it a point from that moment on to stuff his pockets full of rocks before they got outside, so they could throw them at the cars and find out which ones were still active. Steve grabbed some of his own, and it became a game. Ten points went to whoever discovered the first car, and five points for every car after that.

Neither of them are sure what the final prize is, but they're still keeping track of the points.)

"Wow." The word is quiet, more breath than anything and crackling as it passes between their comms, and when Bucky looks over at him, he sees Steve staring up at the sky. He follows his gaze, eyes going wide as they track what looks like a small flock of birds flying away. "I thought they were all extinct."

"So did I." When the air itself had become poisonous and fatal to breathe &mdash to humans, at least — it had been years before they'd been able to build the surface portals. Wildlife hadn't been seen since. "Maybe it's a sign that things're getting better."

Steve's quiet for a minute before responding. "I don't think that's it." He doesn't look over, instead casting his eyes to the ground and picking out where to take his next step. "I think the animals're fine. It's just us humans that the planet wants to get rid of."

Bucky's silent, staring at his friend and watching as he picks his way down to steadier ground. "What the hell's that supposed to mean, Steve?"

"I dunno. We kinda messed things up, don'cha think?" Steve kicks a rock with a little more force than is necessary, watches it skitter away over cracked pavement. "War. Pollution. Driving a lot of species to the point of extinction. People didn't have much respect for Earth back then. They still don't really now. Maybe she's just tryin'a show us we were wrong for taking her for granted."

"Y'know," Bucky starts, and there's a laugh, "I never woulda pegged you for such a cynic, Steve."

"I still got a few good surprises up my sleeve," he teases, with a shit-eating grin that Bucky knows all too well. He motions with his chin before stepping away, picking his way across the ruined streets. "C'mon, this way. I wanna show you something."

Bucky's eyebrows rise at those words, but Steve doesn't look back or explain any further. So he follows without argument, fingering the rocks in his pocket and wondering if they were going to pelt any more cars this time. _Steve has something to show me._ The thought puzzles him, as does its underlying implication: _when did he come up here without me?_ They'd always made their trips to the surface together — what could Steve have to show him that they hadn't already seen together?

They make their way over to a building, and Bucky steps up to help Steve drag the door open. The hinges are rusted, the screeching ringing in their ears after so long without having been used, but they manage to open it enough for both of them to slip through. Bucky glances around at the abandoned office building, wondering just why Steve would bring him here. 

"Steve?" He frowns when Steve stops to root through a desk, taking something from the drawer. "What're we doing here?"

Steve turns so quickly, Bucky's worried his protective gear will fall off. Whatever he's taken from the desk, it's hidden, and he's quiet for a second before speaking. "You trust me, Buck?"

The question offends him a little. "Course I do, man. Doesn't mean I can't wonder why we're inside, when I got all these great rocks for throwing weighing down my pocket."

Steve laughs at that. "Then just shut up and follow me. We can throw rocks later." He pulls open a door on the open side of the room and vanishes through. 

Bucky has to hurry not to lose sight of him, jogging across the room and worried he'll vanish around a corner or fall down a hole or something. When he bursts through the door, though, it's into a stairwell, and Steve's footsteps are already echoing through the narrow space as he dashes up the flights. 

"Hurry up, or I'll leave you down there!" Steve says into his mic, and Bucky can just picture the grin on his face. So he takes the steps two at a time, checking as he goes and watching as Steve scrambles all the way to the very last landing. He's old enough that he remembers elevators, wishes they could have used one to make it easier; still, Steve beats him to the top, and when Bucky bursts through the doors, it's to see him standing in the middle of the roof. He's a little winded, but Bucky pretends not to hear it. Instead, he comes up to stand next to him, nudging him with an elbow. 

"So, what'd you want to show me, Rogers? And what'd you grab out of that desk?"

"Oh, this?" Steve pulls a little figurine out of his pocket, shrugging idly as he looks at it. "It's a thank-you gift for Evelyn. But what I wanted to show you…" Steve looks up at him, and Bucky's heart starts doing the Lindy Hop at the smile on his face. "Turn around."

When he turns, it's toward a gap between the surrounding buildings, and Bucky's eyes go wide. The clouds have cleared away, sun only just dipping to touch the horizon. The sun itself is difficult to look at for too long, even with the shielding in their goggles, but it casts a warm orange glow across the sky, sets the water of the bay below a restless, shifting gold. He can't remember the last time he's seen anything like it, speechless as he stares. They stand in silence, taking in the sight and how peaceful it is, and it takes him a while to realize that there's a hand in his. Bucky looks over to see Steve standing there, gloved hand wrapped around his.

"Happy birthday, Buck. You didn't forget, did you?" Steve grins at him, then motions toward the sunset with his chin. "I didn't know what I was gonna do for it, but then the rain finally stopped. I figured this was as good as it was gonna get."

Bucky doesn't answer for a good minute, eyes flicking back to get caught on the lazy way the water moves and how the sun seems to be swallowed by it. It's beautiful, and he knows in this moment that he wouldn't appreciate it anywhere near as much if it were anyone else he was standing with. He leans to tap the front of his respirator against Steve's, who frowns, and then laughs, trying to find the words for what he wants to say. And when he does, they're simple: "I love you, Steve Rogers. And when we get back home, I'm gonna kiss you for real." 

He only realizes what he's done after it's out in the air, when it's too late to take back, but a huge smile blooms across Steve's face, instead of the surprise, and eventual distaste he'd been expecting. "Yeah? I'm holding you to that, Barnes." 

The casual acceptance shocks him, sets a warmth through his blood, and all he can do is smile back. Bucky casts one last look back at the sunset, squeezes the hand in his, and for the first time in weeks, he feels good.


End file.
